


It's Too Cold For You Here

by mortysmithh



Series: Rick and Morty songfics [1]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Crushes, Emotions, Fluffy, Grandfather/Grandson - Freeform, Healthy romantic relationships, M/M, Makeouts, Partial Nudity, Repressed Emotions, Romance, age gap, idk??, romantic relationships, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortysmithh/pseuds/mortysmithh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Songfic to Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood!! As always, leave comments, and my Tumblr's kinkykankri so leave me prompts and stuff like that!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Too Cold For You Here

_And all I am is a man_

_I want the world in my hands_

They both start out denying it, at first. It’s wrong, the age gap is ridiculous, they’re related, what would their families think if they were to ever find out?

_I hate the beach_

_But I stand in California with my toes in the sand_

But Rick can’t help noticing the gentle touch of pink that comes to his Morty’s cheeks every time he ‘accidentally’ compliments the younger, and Morty can’t help but to notice the way that Rick stammers the most when it’s only the two of them, as if he doesn’t care about keeping up appearances when they’re together.

_Use the sleeves on my sweater_

_Lets have an adventure_

It happens while they’re out on an adventure. The planet is Wintre in dimension C-01D, and it’s always at a temperature below zero. Morty’s much less prepared for it than he could have anticipated, yellow t-shirt and thin blue skinny jeans not nearly enough layers nor are they thick enough to keep him warm. Rick seems relatively unaffected, save for a slight quiver in his voice whenever he speaks, and, under the pretense of Morty’s chattering pissing him off, he takes off his lab coat and tosses it at the shorter’s head, rolling his eyes and dusting it free of lavender-tinted snow as he guides Morty’s arms into the too-large garment. They both pretend not to notice the way Rick’s hands linger on Morty’s skin, the way Morty’s cheeks go reddish-pinkish as Rick’s hand accidentally brushes gently over one of the chubby little things. They blame it on the cold, on the way Morty’s still shaking because he’s worried as he always is about what could catch them in such a vulnerable state. It’s not because he likes Rick that way, it’s not because Rick enjoys the feel of Morty’s soft, warm skin, and it’s most certainly not because the roughness of Rick’s skin, yet the gentle way he handles Morty, almost as if he’s composed of glass and delicate things, that Morty squeaks every time Rick touches him.

_Head in the clouds but my gravity centered_

_Touch my neck and I'll touch yours_

They hold hands on the way back. It’s nothing special, they both tell themselves, just another thing grandfather and grandson do. Just a way to warm up faster, just a distraction for Rick because the way Morty’s snuggling into his lab coat despite being back on the heated and warm spaceship isn’t adorable, and it isn’t making Rick have to turn away several times because the thought of Morty keeping his coat and using it for whenever he’s not there is adorable, because it’s not.

_You in those little high waisted shorts_

_Oh, he knows what I think about_

Rick tries to ignore the way Morty’s shirt rides up every time he bends over or reaches up to grab something from a high shelf. He tries not to notice how red Morty goes in the face every time he ends up touching the younger inappropriately by accident, and he does his best to not stare at Morty’s expression when he comes up behind the other and puts his hand over Morty’s to correct him whenever they’re tinkering in the lab.

_And what I think about_

_One love, two mouths_

Morty keeps having dreams. He ends up keeping Rick’s coat, and while it’s hot enough to think about Rick while masturbating, it’s not his favourite part about the alcohol and spit-stained coat. It’s the way it always brings Rick into his dreams, and even though dream!Rick isn’t the same thing, he can still touch this Rick without worry or care, and he can make it so that they can do whatever they want to.

_One love, one house_

_No shirts, no blouse_

Then one day, they’re alone. Summer calls out that she’s going to work, Jerry’s out on some auction or convention or whatever it is that he goes to, and won’t be home for a few days. Beth’s gone on an emergency surgery, and she nearly always comes back exhausted and at around 3 in the morning when it’s an emergency. Morty doesn’t notice until he goes downstairs to get a drink, and finds Rick watching tv while wearing only his boxers.

_Just us, you find out_

_Nothing I really wanna tell you about no_

He grabs a beer, sipping at his Gazorpacoke and tossing Rick the cold can of Heineken. “H-Hey, Rick, where is everyone?” He gets a grunt in response, and he guesses that means that everyone’s gone.

_Everyone’s gone._

He tries not to keep staring at Rick, only to catch him staring back. They try to make conversation, but it’s short bursts of speech, nothing of real importance, nothing that either of them are legitimately interested in discussing.

_'Cause it's too cold whoa_

_For you here_

“So, y-yoURGH- you still got that coat, Morty?” He says it almost too-casually, popping the tab of the beer before taking a gulp that drains half of the can. Morty only squeaks and mutters something under his breath, shrugging weakly. When Rick chuckles and prods him gently in the side, ‘demanding’ a proper answer, Morty nods, cheeks reddening as he responds, “Y-Yeah, it- i-it’s in my closet, I think. I-It still smells like you, y’know,” and he didn’t mean to let it slip, because the drink in his hand falls to the floor as Rick grabs hold of the sides of his face and kisses him, and it’s hard but it’s not mean, it’s not rough, just passionate.

_And now, so let me hold whoa_

_Both your hands in the holes of my sweater_

He forgets about the drink on the floor, still leaking pinkish-purple soda, and Rick forgets the way he’s supposed to not show his feelings for the younger.

_And if I may just take your breath away_

_I don't mind if there's not much to say_

They forget everything except for how to taste each other, how to deepen the kiss quickly enough that Morty’s breath is taken away and Rick revels in the sweet taste that lies underneath the soda Morty had been drinking, the taste of _Morty_.

_Sometimes the silence guides your mind_

_So move to a place so far away_

The television gets annoying, and Rick gropes around for the controller so he can shut it off, and now the only sounds are their breathing, slightly harder, slightly faster, but still calm enough that the only other sound in the room, in the entire house, is the soft sigh of Rick’s name that leaves Morty as he breaks the kiss for air.

_The goosebumps start to race_

_The minute that my left hand meets your waist_

Rick’s hand wraps around Morty’s waist, fingernails digging in just hard enough that Morty giggles and swats playfully at Rick’s hand, claiming that ‘i-it tickles, stop that!’, but he makes no real effort to get Rick to stop touching him.

_And then I watch your face_

_Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste yeah_

He even encourages it, although he’d never admit to attempting to get Rick to touch him more, but the way he wraps his arms around Rick’s neck isn’t just for show, and the way he scooches closer towards the taller on the couch to sit on his lap isn’t just for his own benefit.

_These hearts adore, everyone the other beat heart is for_

_Inside this place is warm_

Morty can feel Rick’s heartbeat, the way that he’s sitting, and Rick can feel Morty’s heartbeat, both in the boy’s tiny torso and in the back of his neck, where Morty’s wrist is pressed up against his skin and he can nearly feel their heartbeats mingling.

_Outside is ice cold_

_Coming down_

It starts to snow, just as it had been on that planet, on that day, several weeks ago, when neither had wanted to show any signs of their affections. What they hadn’t known was that they were both already showing it.

_One love, two mouths_

_One love, one house_

The kiss grows heavier, deeper, and Rick’s hand roams up Morty’s shirt, simply feeling to feel as soft moans escape Morty.

_No shirts, no blouse_

_Just us, you find out_

Rick breaks the kiss this time, to tug off Morty’s shirt, and the feeling of skin-on-skin contact is absolutely _amazing_ , and Morty’s a little bit chilly, but coarse, pale blue hair brushing across his chest makes up for it, makes up for everything that Rick’s ever done to make him upset, makes up for everything bad that’s ever happened to him.

_Nothing I really wanna tell you about, no no no_

_'Cause it's too cold whoa_

The faulty air conditioner kicks in, cold air brushing across both of their bodies and causing goosebumps to raise on them. Morty pulls back to giggle out something about how Rick looks like a plucked chicken, and Rick just smirks and leans down to lick over both of Morty’s nipples, once each, illiciting a sharp squeal from Morty and a soft, growly laugh from Rick.

_For you here_

_And now, so let me hold whoa_

They stay on that couch for several hours, and by 11 o’clock PM, Morty has memorized all of the contours of Rick’s mouth, and Rick’s memorized the breathy way Morty giggles when he’s out of air but still happy that they’re like this, that they’re touching, that they’re kissing and nearly naked with each other. They’ve memorized each others’ tastes, the way Morty kisses with a slightly quivering tongue, and the way Rick’s burps taste like alcohol and like the payment for a sin committed long ago. It’s incredibly intimate and it makes Morty weak in the knees. If he weren’t seated on Rick’s lap, he thinks that they might’ve buckled.

_Both your hands in the holes of my sweater_

_'Cause it's too cold whoa_

Goosebumps and coldness are forgotten as Rick lays on the couch, yawning and pretending to be tired if not only to hear Morty’s stuttery protests and to feel Morty inadvertently straddle him so that Rick can gaze up at his absolutely gorgeous grandson.

_For you here_

_And now, so let me hold whoa_

The lighting contours their faces differently, Morty’s round face now leaner, almost mean-looking if not for the gentle spark of love and excitement in his eyes. Rick’s sharp angles are made even sharper, until he almost looks like just a few lines, a pair of chapped, damp lips, and eyes that remain half-lidded as he gazes up at Morty.

_Both your hands in the holes of my sweater_

_Whoa, whoa, whoa_

They both keep touching each other, Morty nearly laying down on Rick but propped up just enough that he can play with Rick’s skin, that he can trace meaningless patterns over the coarse hairs on Rick’s chest, and propped up enough that Rick can kiss at his neck, leave hickies that have Morty gasping for breath and giggling and squirming, and that he can lean in to whisper countless ‘I love you’s and ‘you mean everything to me’s that make Morty go weak in the heart.

_Whoa, whoa whoa_

_Whoa, whoa whoa_

It feels like an eternity of heaven, and Rick absentmindedly thinks that he wouldn’t mind dying with Morty like this. Morty does as well. Unknowingly, they have the thought at the same time, and perhaps this shows that they truly are perfect for each other.

_Whoa, whoa_

_Whoa, whoa whoa_

The snow’s coming thicker, a blizzard now, and as Rick glances at the clock to announce that it’s 2 in the morning and that they probably have a few more hours to themselves, Morty purrs out Rick’s name and kisses him again, his eyes half-lidded now as well and pants having been tossed into the corner.

_Whoa, whoa_

_'Cause it's too cold whoa_

A blanket’s over the two of them, and now they’re nice and warm, laying together and gazing into each others’ eyes.

_For you here_

_And now, so let me hold whoa_

Rick starts to believe in love again, starts to think that it isn’t so stupid, that it isn’t so pointless so long as it’s with the right person. The first time was a fluke, maybe, and that’s what he tells himself because Morty’s broken him in the best of ways, he’s broken through Rick’s seemingly-impenetrable armour of ‘I don’t fucking care so why the hell do you?’, and the result is beautiful.

_Both your hands in the holes of my sweater_

_It's too cold whoa_

Their hands intertwine, Rick’s long, thin fingers laced tightly with Morty’s shorter, almost stubby fingers. Occasionally, one will squeeze the other’s hands, and it’s always while they’re kissing.

_For you here_

_And now, so let me hold whoa_

Morty eventually tries to raise a fuss about the spilled soda, and Rick kisses him quiet, tells him that it’s not really a big deal, he’s doomed and saved the planet all in one afternoon before, what makes Morty think that he can’t handle a simple, stupid thing like a Gazorpacoke stain?

_Both your hands in the holes of my sweater_

_It's too cold, it's too cold_

They fall asleep at 5 in the morning, Rick snoring and Morty curled up on him, cheek resting against Rick’s chest and long eyelashes fluttering as he dreams about Rick once more, but dream!Rick’s much more vivid this time, because it’s not just the old scent of a coat, it’s _Rick_ that’s with him this time as he rests.

_The hands of my sweater_

They almost believe in god, because if there is such a heaven as this, then maybe a higher being is causing it.


End file.
